17 06 2007

I used to work for my Dad while I was in college. When I worked there I called him by his first name, Dave.

Since then, in a bid for humourous nostolgia, I still call him Dave once in a while. To which he replies ‘Daughter’.

My Dad owns his own company with a partner, the partner is the good cop, my Dad is the bad cop. Dad collects debts for the business and usually does the firing of employees. My Dad plays this roll, not because he is a mean guy its because he allows negativity as such roll off him like water off a duck’s back. He just goes with the punches.

He’s always been a laid back sort of guy.

Now he is starting to wind down a bit, looking to sell up his part of his business to the partner (who still has kids in elementary school). Dad enjoys a few rounds of golf in the week and has taken up poker.

My dad has always been about keeping himself active and busy. Up until the last few years (after his hip replacement) my dad played competitive “old timers” hockey. He traveled with my Mom to Europe on year and another year he took all of us to Florida for a tournament.

Besides himself playing hockey, baseball & lacrosse. He also coached. He was the type of coach that 15 plus years later, you’d still call him the best and most influencial coach you ever had. And once or twice, most specifically at lacrosse, kids he coached back in Long Branch who now themselves were married and had kids would come back to him and ask him if he remembered them. He always did.

My Dad was the ‘cool’ Dad on the block. My friends, my friend’s parents, and pretty much everyone in between adored Dave. He liked to tout himself as quite a comedien. Classics which include – “How does an elephant hide in a cherry tree, he paints his toe nails red” and the ever popular “I hope this rain keeps up, so it doesn’t come down”.

My dad often gets asks to host or mc various events, his famous opener, which I learned because as I child I found it hilarious!

“Ladies and Gents, hobos and Tramps

cross eyed mosquitos and bow-leg-ed ants.

I come before you, to stand behind you

to tell you about something I know nothing about.

Of course you know next Thursday is Good Friday

There will be Mother’s meeting for Father’s only.

The admission is free, you pay at the door.

You grab a seat, and sit on the floor.

Thank you for your unkind attention,

I’d like to draw your unkind attention to the four corners of the round table”

I remember Saturday mornings with my dad. We’d get into the car and head to Max Milk to pick my dad’s lotto numbers. My brother, Sister and I all got to help pick numbers. We’d then head to the dump, we’d always find something that needed to be taken to the dump. Followed by going through the car wash. After our long morning of errands we’d head to McDonald’s for a cheeseburger HappyMeal with the newest toy.

I also remember my dad being quite an inventor and handyman, and even though as an adult I realized he was actually a DIY disaster waiting to happen. I must admit his ideas and presentation of his ideas were very impressive, perhaps the exucution was left to be desired. Of course the fact that he fixed everything with old hockey sticks and duct tape should have been the first indicator.

I remember riding on the back of my Dad’s bike. My push car that he rigged (with a hockey stick) so that he could push me without bending over. I remember catching crawfish in the creek behind our house. I remember science fair projects and making fishing rods out of widdled sticks.

I remember my Dad walking me down the aisle when I got married, telling me all the same jokes that made me laugh when I was 6. . . . .

My Dad is a good man.

Happy Father’s Day, Dave, I love you to bits.




2 responses

18 06 2007


Good for you, Joey. Thanks for sharing.

18 06 2007

I forgot to mention, that everyone thinks my Dad looks like Capt’n Kangeroo!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: